


Working Title: Ghosting.

by CescaLR (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Have forgotten ness left over from, M/M, Multi, Other, Stiles (and other Forgotten), WIP, Work Up For Adoption, their time w/ the gbost riders, unfinished work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: After the ghost riders are long gone, and they're all at their respective locations, Stiles notices something... odd.





	Working Title: Ghosting.

**Author's Note:**

> literally not even finished. This is immediately going up for adoption.

The problem wasn't registered at first. 

Granted, Stiles had spent such a fairly long time not being remembered at all that being noticed still surprised him, sometimes - the problem was, it suprised them too. 

* * *

 "Stiles!" Lydia stated, surprised. Stiles rasied an eyebrow in response; he'd been standing behind her, reading her essay since she'd invited him over.

(Stiles had a key. Lydia'd let him make it.) 

Stiles was on break, and Lydia wasn't, so she'd acknowledged his presence with a dignified noise and immediately returned to work. 

"I didn't see you there." She continued, losing her surprise and smiling at the sight of him.

This, being her  _boyfriend,_ this was something Stiles still wasn't used to. Stiles doesn't know her reasoning for deciding, after all this time and all these years, that he was finally good enough for her, but he didn't much care - after all, he's loved her for forever. Sort of. 

Stiles smiled in reply, and she was the one to kiss him, because Stiles still wasn't certain if he could, or not, not yet. 

After, Stiles looked at her work again, disguising his query with an almost blasé manner. "Took you a bit to notice I was here." He commented, frowning confusedly at the practically Ancient Greek essay, for all he could understand the theory within it. 

Lydia huffed and moved her essay. "Stiles." She protested. "Don't read it; Solo assignment." She explained, denying him the ability to read it regardless of that by placing it in her desk drawer. 

"Fine, fine." Stiles conceded. "Still confused as to how you didn't hear me open the door, at least."

The door to Lydia's apartment - because, well, she's a  _Martin,_ her parents aren't gonna let her deign to sleeping in a dorm - was the creakiest door Stiles had ever come across, aside from that one in the Hospital a few years back.

(God, it was a few years back? Feels like only yesterday. As cliché as that is.)

Lydia inclined her head; her version of a shrug. "I was concentrating." She defended herself. "And you were quiet, anyway."

Stiles hadn't actually been that quiet, but he knew how Lydia got when she was figuring out mathematical theorems, so he accepted her reasoning. 

It's not like he's still worried everyone will forget his existence at all times. She didn't notice him  _once,_ that doesn't mean the end of the world. 

(Once, Stiles thinks. Twice...)

* * *

 It had happened again. 

Stiles was late for class, and thank  _god_ the door was at the back, because he was able to sneak in and sit down. The teacher's eyes moved over him, however, and he winced. 

After the lecture was over, Stiles moved over to the front. 

"Ah -" The man paused, looked down at a sheet of paper. "Stiles, did you want something?" 

Stiles paused. He frowned, shook his head and made up an excuse. 

"I was just wondering about how the criminal tremor could be seen even if the person had say, a broken hand or arm or whatever." Stiles said, because that had ended up as a problem back home, and he'd be damned if it happened again. 

The man nodded, and Stiles listened as he explained. 

(He reasoned that the teacher had seen him just after he'd sat down. And, it was the first year; it'd take a few more weeks for names to stick. Especially one like Stiles'.)

* * *

Being on break was all fine and dandy, until it meant for the third strike. Scott and Stiles had decided that, although it was only a short drive away from each other's college, to meet in the middle. Lydia came with, and Malia showed up without her boyfriend in tow. 

"Lying is annoying." She'd said. "I like to talk about the things we know, but we can't if he's here," And that was that. 

It was when Stiles walked into the kitchenette of the rented apartment one morning, (He was staying with Lydia - Scott in the other room and Malia had claimed the couch), greeted Scott and actually made him jump in surprise as Stiles had done one too many times when they were a few years younger and Scotty still had his asthma problem to contend with. 

"Stiles!" He exclaimed, a little. 

Stiles was now worried, a tad bit. 

Scott frowned, a little, but shook it off. "You're getting better at that." Scott said. 

Stiles hadn't been trying to sneak up on him, though. When he said this, slightly indignant because - well, he was covering up worry, Scott's frown came back. 

After a moment, he shrugged and his eyes cleared. "Maybe I'm just out of practice." He said. "I don't really use my werewolf abilities at college, after all."

Stiles didn't like that excuse. Not one bit, but he took it anyway. 

"Sure." He replied, unconvinced. 

* * *

Later, the four of them were in the living area, sitting in free spaces on chairs and the floor, watching a TV show they missed the existence of in all the chaos. 

"They have it worse than we did." Scott says, sympathetic. Stiles scoffs and Malia raises an eyebrow, because maybe they did in some ways, but they definitely didn't in others. 

"At least none have been possessed." Lydia said, and Stiles grimaced along side her. 

"None of their parents are trying to kill them, either." Malia commented. Scott winced, and shrugged. 

Malia went for another slice of pizaa, paused when she moved past Stiles to do so. 

She cocked her head; a tilt of confusion. For a moment she stared at him, and Lydia raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Malia?" She questioned, and said werecoyote frowned, sniffed the air, slightly. 

"You don't smell of anything." She accused Stiles, but there was worry there. 

"What?" He asked, truthfully a little worried himself. 

"Nothing." She replied. "You smell like you aren't even there." She explained, bluntly. 

"Don't be ridiculous." Lydia replied, frowning. "That can't be possible." 

Malia's frown deepened, and she grabbed for the slice she'd reached for previously, took it and stayed peering at Stiles in worried confusion as she ate. 

This was technically four times now, Stiles knew. He shrugged, got up, went to the bathroom.

He had an idea.

* * *

Stiles left the room, waited five minutes. When he reentered, none of the others looked up. Stiles leaned against the wall.

"Boo." He said, drily. The three moved; Scotty jumped slightly, Lydia started and Malia's muscles tensed. 

The others blinked, frowned, then looked to him. 

"I think we have a problem." Scott said. "I didn't hear you until you spoke." 

Lydia looked uncertain. Malia, however, kept the worried confusion from earlier. 

"Why do you think this is happening?" She asked, and it was Lydia who replied. "Leftovers, maybe. From your time on the other side." She addressed Stiles. "With the Wild Hunt." The banshee added, grave in her delivery. 

Stiles grimaced. So much for a quiet college life. 

* * *

They decided that, next break, it would be best to see if there was anything left in (fucking) Beacon Hills from the Wild Hunt. Since the next break was a much longer one, that was a good thing. 

"Why now?" Lydia asked. "Why not as soon as you came back, how come we didn't notcie until a month or so later?" 

Stiles shrugged. The two were back at Lydia's apartment, a little ways from the dorms Stiles stayed in. "I know as little as you do, Lyds." He says, and she frowns in contemplation. 

There's a pause, stagnant and silent and, perhaps, a little uncomfortable. 

"How come it's affecting  _me,_ though?" She demanded of no-one. "When you were gone I remembered... how come this is happening like it is?" 

Stiles shrugged, again. It's not like he immediately understood everything that was going on in the last few seconds. 

 "Maybe the universe just hates me and wants me to suffer?" He asks rhetorically, drily, and only half-serious sounding. 

"Stiles." Lydia says, reproachfully, and he, again, shrugs in response. "What?" He asks. "You know it doesn't." She says, because she knows him, has known him for a few years now and  _knows._

More than he'd like, to be truthful, but less than he's always wanted. 

(Knowing isn't the same as understanding. Stiles understands that she's gone through possession, understands that she lost her grandmother at a young age. Lydia knows that he's loved her for a long time, but wonders how long he's been  _in_ love with her. Understands he was possessed, understands what it's like to hurt your friends without meaning to. Knows he blames himself, knows he thinks its his fault so many people are dead. Knows he's lost a fair amount in his short life, understands that, hilariously enough, said life has been better than a fair few people's - but that, they both understand.)

Stiles doesn't shrug in response, but he inclines his head non-committedly. 

Lydia sighs. It's late, and she's tired. He should be, but he's always been that guy who stays up until three in the morning and wakes at six but never seems to tire. 

She smiles, soft and pretty and everything he ever wanted aimed in his direction, presses a soft kiss against his cheek and gets up, leaves, moves to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

She has classes in the morning. Stiles doesn't, but he leaves to go to the dorm regardless. He's not sure how comfortable she'd be with him staying. 

* * *

"This is serious, Scott." Malia says.

Malia decided to take online courses instead of staying in a class a year or more younger than herself, and then take either a course at uni or an apprenticeship. She hadn't quite decided yet. This at least meant that she could hop around her friends (and boyfriend's) places. Scott almost envied her in that, at least - because she can keep an eye on the pack when he can't. 

"I know." He murmurs in reply, perhaps saddened, resigned. She huffs a sigh, short hair buffeting away from her face. 

"We can't hear him." She starts listing. "Can't smell him, can't register his chemo signals." There's a pause. "It affects Lydia too." She adds, as an unwanted afterthought. Scott closes his eyes. 

"I'm sorry." He says, and she shrugs, turns her head. "How would you've known?" She replies. "None of us remembered." 

"You remembered how you felt." He said. "I didn't notice that then, but I do now, and I'm sorry for saying something I didn't -" there was another pause, as he cut himself off.

Because that would have been a lie. He'd been rooting for them, Stiles and Lydia, even when Malia was dating his best friend, when Lydia was with Jackson, Aiden, Jordan. 

He'd told Kira that, and he thinks now that was a mistake. 

"I'm sorry." Scott says again. Malia huffs, scoffs, even, rolls her eyes. 

"It doesn't matter, Scott." She replies. "Done with now anyway." 

Scott sighs, disappointed in himself.

Malia straightens. "We need to find out why this is happening." She started, moving on from the previous topic. Scott nodded, happy with changing track. 

"So we need to see if its happening to other people who were taken." She said. Scott paused. 

"That's not the best idea." He replied, frowning. "I know, but what else do we have?" She responded, almost snappish - perhaps annoyed with the situation. "Alright, fine." He conceded. "Do we even know where Peter is now, though?" "I do." She replied. The tightness in her jaw and the furrowing of her brow showed the distaste she felt at that. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was to be temp. St!dia, btw. Pete, Theo, Stils, Lyds, Scotty, Mali are all main players. I don't care what you do w/ it if you wanna take this, but please keep the temporary Stydia. I was looking to make it maybe Scydia (now kira's w/ the skin walkers) or Marrish and Maybe keep the rest single pringles (meaning Mal's boy is temporary.)  
> Implied eventual Stalias, possibly. Hell, put in Staleo if you wanna, just at least leave Uncle Creeper all alone because he's kind of evil. Perhaps redemption arc via his fatherness, but nobody will ever like him. Those were plans anyhow, you can do what you like.


End file.
